


pretty boy

by fire_and_bones



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, how soft can you get?, oh but there is Trauma, the answer is very
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27923131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fire_and_bones/pseuds/fire_and_bones
Summary: new romance is hard, isn't it?(me? projecting my own touch-starved-ness onto jonmartin? never....it's mostly me writing really soft safehouse moments both pre-eyepocalypse and post-eyepocalypse and there's not actually a plot, it's *mostly* canon compliant I thinkand, in this house, we drink our respect jon's ace identity juiceI just really like thinking about what an intimate physical relationship could be like without sex so that's a lot of where this came from tooso!! soft safehouse moments!! some a little sad, some just soft - here we go!!)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> The first two chapters are basically two parts of the same thing! After that they all should be more separate!

It turns out accidentally confessing your love for your boss before running away with him to Scotland for entirely different reasons can be fairly awkward.

What do you even do? It’s not something people just do.

Rain lightly tapped against the windows, against the thin roof.

Martin laid on his side, arms folded. Jon lay with his back to him, almost fully curled into a ball.

It seemed that Jon somehow managed to leave as much distance between them as he possibly could. And though it had, in reality, only been a few nights, Martin couldn’t help but notice it. He tried to push away the familiar feelings of disconnection he’d felt so often in the Lonely – if he let himself think on it for too long, he might start to slip into that thought pattern again. He couldn’t afford that, not now, not when the man he’d longed for for so long was closer than he ever had been before.

But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t deny that he still felt so far away.

He decided this odd sort of middle ground he found himself in was not somewhere he liked being.

Martin’s eyes opened slowly, sleep still escaping him. His eyes focused on Jon’s back, how there was just enough light for him to be able to see the curve of his spine through his shirt. How there was just enough light to see that Jon’s hair was still tied back, the grey streaks looking even more drastic now than they did in normal light. Just enough light to see that Jon probably couldn’t get much closer to the edge of the bed on his side without falling off. He exhaled a long breath before closing his eyes again.

This time he did fall into a light sleep, but woke up again when he felt Jon shift. He opened his eyes again, slowing letting them adjust to the low light again. Actually, now that he was awake enough to process it better, it seemed like Jon had been shifting a lot, almost like he was trying to find a comfortable position, with little success. Martin could see Jon had curled in on himself even more than before, and now that he was a little more aware, it seemed like Jon was… shivering.

He stared a moment longer, and yes, Jon definitely was shivering. He guessed the rain must have made it colder – he hadn’t noticed much of a change. Maybe it was colder.  
Martin swallowed, trying to decide if he should try to say something. Would Jon even hear him? Was he awake? He tried to think if he had seen any extra blankets around the house somewhere that he could go get.

“Jon?” he whispered. Nothing happened.

Martin swallowed, waiting a minute or two, then speaking louder.

“Hey, Jon?”

There were a few seconds of silence, then Jon shifted, turning his head to peer over his shoulder at Martin.

“Yes?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m, um… Yes. I’m alright.” He brought one of his hands up to rub his eye.

“Are you sure? You seem cold.”

Jon huffed a little bit of laughter. “Um, yeah, it’s colder tonight than it has been, but… it’s uh, it’s alright.”

“There might be some extra blankets around. I can go look.” Martin started to push himself up.

“No – no, that’s alright. You don’t have to do that.” He started to extend a hand out to stop him.

Martin gave Jon a knowing look.

“I think I’ll go check.”

He stood and left the bedroom. Jon sighed.

But his only half-conscious mind had an idea, and wasn’t awake enough to stop him, so Jon moved himself into the spot Martin had just been. He found instant relief, half-smiling as he found the warmth.

Martin came back a few moments later, empty-handed.

“No luck,” he said, softly closing the door behind him. “I’m s—oh… I see you’ve found a solution.”

Suddenly Jon felt significantly more awake as he realized what he did.

“Ah—I—I’m sorry, you’re just, uh, you’re a lot warmer than I am.” He started to move back to his side, hoping Martin couldn’t see the red on his cheeks in the dim light.

“No—no, it’s alright.” Martin said, his chest suddenly feeling significantly heavier. He got back into his place in bed, and tried not to think too much about how Jon was now much closer than he had been before.

Martin settled back into his comfortable position on his side. Jon had turned to lay flat on his back, and Martin saw how his eyes were now just barely closed, how he’d wrapped his arms around himself to try to keep warm.

Martin swallowed, trying to convince himself to just speak without overthinking it.

“I, um… I could help warm you up. If you’d like. It’s okay if not.” His cheeks felt red as he realized what that would actually mean.

The words seemed to freeze Jon in his place for a moment. His eyes opened, and he risked one quick look over at Martin before looking back up at the ceiling.

“Are you sure?” Now he actually looked over at Martin, eyes scanning his face intently.

Martin nodded.

“I, uh… Yes, I think that would be alright.”

Martin’s face felt hotter and his heart rate started to quicken, feeling just like he used to after most interactions with Jon back in the archives, only now Jon was quite literally crawling into his arms.

Jon kept his arms tucked close to his chest as he settled against Martin, Martin wrapping his arms around Jon, hands settling low on his back.

Jon sighed as the chill left his body, nudging himself as close to Martin as he could physically get.

“Is this alright?” Martin whispered.

Jon nodded against Martin’s chest.

“Thank you, Martin,” he whispered back, his voice nearly inaudible.

“Of course,” Martin answered.

Once they had settled, Martin found himself frozen in place – he felt like if he moved, he might break something. Whatever it was that had let this happen, he didn’t want to accidentally ruin it, and he felt like the tiniest wrong movement might do just that.

Jon, neatly tucked into Martin’s arms, couldn’t help but think this was the safest place he’d been in a long time. The cold had vanished, all replaced by warmth, by the soft fabric of Martin’s t-shirt, by the way Martin smelled. He thought maybe he could stay here forever and pretend that he wasn’t getting weaker and weaker without any statements to read, always desperate for more. He could pretend that The Eye, the Institute, all of it – none of it had to exist here.

They fell asleep quickly.


	2. II

The morning came, and the rain had stopped, but the clouds remained, casting grey light in through the windows.

Jon’s eyes opened, and he realized neither of them had moved much in their sleep, his face was still buried in Martin’s chest. He pulled back slightly to look up at Martin.

Still only half conscious, he couldn’t help but take in the lines that made up his face – the gentle curve of his jaw, the soft shape of his lips, the shadow of someone who hadn’t shaved in a while. He wondered if it would wake Martin up if he freed one of his hands to trace his fingertips along all of those lines.

Still staring, he also began to wonder again if Martin knew what he’d meant by what he said in the Lonely. And he wondered what Martin had meant by what he had said. Thinking about it, it was almost laughable how much his love for Martin had grown while he wasn’t looking, half because he’d had himself convinced he hated him instead. And by the time he’d finally come to terms with the fact that the hatred wasn’t actually anywhere close to hatred, but rather had morphed itself into fully being in love with him… maybe it’d been too late.

Before he could really process it, his hand pushed itself out of where it had been pressed between both of them, and settled on the side of Martin’s face. He froze for a second, realizing that he’d actually done it. He stared at his own hand for a second, then scanned Martin’s face as close as he could to see if anything had changed, but he still appeared to be just as asleep before. Jon swallowed and decided to commit – he moved his hand slightly and brushed his knuckles against Martin’s cheek, then tracing the tip of his thumb along his jawline.

He repeated the motion again and again, sinking into a rhythm, eyes fixed on his own fingertips gliding over Martin’s face.

Completely lost in it, Jon didn’t notice when Martin’s eyes opened slowly. The trance broke when Martin smiled sleepily.

“Hi,” He whispered softly. Jon’s eyes widened and his hand retracted.

“Oh—I, sorry, uh—sorry.” He blushed furiously, eyes dropping to look anywhere other than Martin’s.

Martin’s brow furrowed, his eyelids just barely open, but his smile grew wider.

“Sorry?” He said, sounding playfully confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“I j—I di—I didn’t know if you, I was—I…” Jon stuttered, eyes fixated on the collar of Martin’s t-shirt.

“Jon,” Martin whispered. One of his hands moved from its position on Jon’s back to instead grasp onto Jon’s hand, still frozen in place between them. “What would make you think I wouldn’t like that?”

“Ah—oh. Um. I-I don’t know, I…” Jon blushed more, feeling a spike of adrenaline in his veins.

“Did you miss the part where I said I loved you?” Martin said, his voice quiet, laughter on its edges.

“Oh—you, just, um. I—the way you’d said it, at the time, I was meaning to, ah, I—I wasn’t sure, i-it’d sounded like maybe you… I thought maybe you’d meant it sort of… past tense? I didn’t want to…”

Martin laughed, and Jon couldn’t help but smile at the sound. He brought Jon’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss on his knuckles.  
“It’s still true, Jon.”

“Oh,” Jon breathed, laughing nervously. “Oh. Yes. Um… that’s good.”

Martin laughed again, pulling Jon closer, kissing the top of his head. Jon laughed too, out of relief and out of joy.

“You’re useless.” Martin said through his laughter.

“Hey—it’s not like you were always much better.” Jon grinned, looking up at Martin again.

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair.” He brushed a few stray grey hairs out of Jon’s eyes. Jon moved his hand to place it back on Martin’s face, unable to stop himself from staring at his eyes for a moment.

“Oh, um, I… I do too. Love you, I mean. I love you.” Jon turned pink again as he spoke. Martin grinned even wider, his eyes scrunched up so much in his smile they almost closed.  
“That’s good,” He said playfully. Jon frowned.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“Yeah, alright, _boss_.”

Jon’s frown broke and they both laughed, Martin pressing their foreheads together as they did.

Eventually Jon tucked his head back underneath Martin’s, and he fell asleep for a few more hours.


	3. III

Martin was reading something on the sofa, he wasn’t particularly invested in it, but it was a way to pass time.

Jon had settled in next to him, shoulder pressed against Martin’s, and was reading something too.

After a little while, Jon sighed and closed his book, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table in front of them.

Martin looked up from his book as Jon shifted to lay down, resting his head in Martin’s lap. Martin smiled to himself and moved one of his hands to stroke Jon’s hair.

Jon hummed as he did so.

“Is this alright?”

Jon nodded as much as he could. Martin smiled and turned his eyes back to his book, absentmindedly running his hand through Jon’s hair.

After a few minutes, Jon shifted to tuck his legs closer to his body, quite literally curling up to Martin.

And a few minutes after that, Martin had taken apparently just a moment too long to replace his hand at the top of Jon’s head after a long stroke, and when Martin’s hand finally did move back up Jon _nudged_ it. Martin looked down, grinning when he realized. He tried it again, letting his hand linger in Jon’s hair even longer before moving it back up to start over. Jon pushed his head forward to nudge Martin’s hand again, like… like… a _cat._ Martin grinned at this, testing it a few more times, Jon curling up even closer, if it was possible, and contentedly encouraging Martin’s hand to keep stroking his hair.

Martin tried to stifle his laugh but failed, mostly, as he couldn’t get the resemblance out of his head.

“Alright, Jon?” He couldn’t hide the amused tone in his voice. Jon hummed again.

“Yes… wait, what is it?” Jon turned his head to look up at Martin, brows furrowed in confusion. Martin laughed again.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re about to start purring.”

“What?” Jon said, his eyes flicked back and forth as he tried to figure out what Martin meant. Martin giggled more when Jon’s cheeks went red as he realized.

“Oh.” His face broke out in a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Martin ran his hand through Jon’s hair again. “It’s actually very cute.” Jon tried to glare in response to this, but the smile stayed stuck on his face.

“I’m not _cute._ ” He turned his head back so he was facing forward again.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Martin mused, the smile still wide on his face. He closed his book now, setting it to his side.

It was quiet for a moment, then Jon said “It’s just nice to be touched by someone who’s not actively trying to kill me.”

“ _Christ,_ Jon!”

“What?” Jon turned his head to look at Martin again.

“I—no, sorry. That _did_ happen a lot, didn’t it? I suppose I’m just not used to hearing it put… like that. I don’t know.” Jon looked at him for a moment.

“It happened a lot, yes.” Jon turned his head back.

Martin ran his hand through Jon’s hair a few more times, then exhaled a long sigh.

“Do you mind getting up for just a second, love?”

Jon hummed and sat himself up, looking very much like he had almost fallen asleep. Martin scooped the book up from next to him and leaned to place it on the coffee table in front of them. Then he turned his back to the raised armrest of the sofa, settling himself into it comfortably. He held up his arms to beckon Jon forward.

“Come here,” He said. Jon looked at him with a slightly confused expression. “You seem like you’d like a nap, so come here.”

Jon gave a grateful smile, moving to straddle Martin’s waist, settling himself against Martin and resting his head on his shoulder. Martin wrapped his arms around Jon.

“Comfortable?”

Jon hummed contentedly. His hands found Martin’s waist, his fingertips finding their way under the edge of Martin’s jumper so he could feel the warm skin beneath it.

If there weren’t so much fabric in the way, Jon thought, he’d have liked to kiss Martin’s shoulder.

The thought made him blush, and he was grateful that Martin couldn’t see his face.

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is half them being good at communication lol... and half kith

They had just finished eating, and were sitting on the sofa again, Jon curled into Martin’s side, hands intertwined and resting on Martin’s leg between them.

The small television was on in front of them, Martin occasionally making absentminded commentary on whatever was playing, but Jon wasn’t really paying attention. Instead he was looking up at Martin, watching how the faint light cast different shapes on his face.

Though it had only been a couple of days, Jon felt it was time they have the _talk,_ a big we’re-in-a-relationship-now type conversation, about needs, and boundaries, all of that… something that should be more common than it probably is. He didn’t want to rush anything, necessarily, but he really, _really_ wanted to make sure they were on the same page. He’d already been burned one too many times by waiting too long to have that kind of conversation.

And not to mention he also desperately wanted to kiss Martin. But he knew that the road a kiss often leads people down wasn’t one he could follow, and he didn’t want _that_ type of situation to be the one where he brings up his asexuality.

“Martin,” Jon said, in a much quieter voice than he had intended.

“Hm?” Martin looked over at Jon.

“Can we talk? About, uh…” He made a vague motion to their hands, to both of them. “This?”

“Oh,” Martin seemed to straighten his posture slightly. “Yes—yes, of course, that’s probably a good idea, yeah.” He laughed nervously, and Jon smiled. He squeezed Martin’s hand slightly, and Martin smiled.

“I’ll admit it’s, uh, it’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation of this kind, so…” They both laughed a little bit. “You’ll have to forgive me for not really knowing where to start. Even though I was the one that brought it up.”

Martin grinned at that.

“No, that’s alright, love. I’m sure you won’t find it a surprise when I say it’s been a while for me too. Oh—that’s actually, that’s probably a good a place to start as any—do you like it when I call you that?”

Jon nodded, smiling. “Yes. Very much.”

“Alright. I’m glad.” Martin looked down at their hands. “Has everything so far, um, has all of that been alright? I would’ve hoped you would say if you’re uncomfortable with something, but, ah…”

“Oh, yes. Yes. I mean, really, I’m comfortable with most forms of physical affection, I suppose, so I wouldn’t worry too much about me not wanting to hold your hand or anything. I like all of that sort of thing. A lot.” He paused. “However, there is, ah… it’s just, um…I don’t know how you feel about, um, this sort of thing, so, ah… I know this is still very… soon, and all, and I don’t really know what your opinion on it is, especially this early into a relationship, but you should know, just… in case… or, I guess, for when we get to that point…” How many times would he have to say it before he got good at just saying it without stuttering over himself? “I’m asexual.”

“I know.”

“Wh—y—what?”

“Oh, god, sorry. That sounded so much weirder than I wanted it to. Basira mentioned it to me once. I didn’t want to assume anything, you know, because I didn’t actually hear it from _you_ , and she’d just heard it from Melanie, who got it from Georgie, but… sorry. Please go on. Tell me more about it.”

“Oh, um… Right, okay. I mean, Georgie would know.” He nervously scratched the back of his neck with his free hand. “Not sure how I feel about it being office gossip necessarily, but uh… Yeah. I don’t know how they described it, but, it’s just not… it’s not something I enjoy. It’s not—I’m not at the level where just the thought is unbearable for me or anything, though that’s perfectly fine for people who _are,_ it’s uh, just not… I don’t like it. At all. Nothing about it is appealing to me, and the few times I have actually, you know… participated, I didn’t like it. And my attraction to people has never come from that place for me, either.”

“Right… that’s good to know.”

“Does any of that… is any of that an issue for you? I guess I should’ve added it’s not _just_ that I don’t like it, but that I also am not really interested in that for… _us_ … I suppose.”

“No—that’s perfectly alright, yeah. I guess… I guess having been told that so long ago was kind of helpful, y’know? Kind of helped me… know what to expect? But you’re right, about the gossip thing – I know if it was me, I wouldn’t appreciate something like that being casual conversation for coworkers. But… I guess it was still sort of helpful. In a way.”

“Hm… I suppose I can see that.”

“Um, so, you like physical affection, all sorts, basically with the exception of sex?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“That works for me.”

“And you’re… that’s okay?”

“Don’t worry about that, Jon,” Martin laughed a little. “I got it.”

Jon let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding, unable to keep his face from breaking into a relieved smile.

“Besides, Jon,” Martin continued, motioning to how they were sitting. “I think maybe you forget, but Martin from a couple years ago is absolutely _losing it_ right now, just holding your hand.”

Jon giggled to himself. “Jon from a couple years ago is also losing it right now, but for entirely different reasons.” Martin broke out in laughter.

“You really hated me, huh?”

“No, of course I didn’t.” Jon said through his own laughter. “I admired you, from the very beginning. I think I even envied you, a little bit. Even from that first time we met with—with the dog. A lot of what I called hatred was actually just misplaced jealousy, because I can be such a downer. You, at least, _tried_ to enjoy things. Even if they were small. You tried to make things better, and more tolerable, and from the very beginning I was ready to just sign myself away into near-permanent misery. But not you.”

“Jon, that’s… Actually quite sweet. Especially coming from you.”

Jon scrunched his face up in a playfully angry way.

“I said not to make fun of me.” They laughed again.

“Either way, that’s also good to hear… I’m glad you didn’t hate me.”

“Well, believe me when I say I’d convinced myself I did. And I’m sorry, about all that, it was really very unnecessary.”

“Eh, it’s in the past now. I mean, I won’t say that some of your attitude towards me didn’t hurt, but… it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry, Martin.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. It’s not important anymore.” Martin’s eyes shifted back down to their hands, where Jon had started to gently rub the side of Martin’s thumb with his own. “But thank you.”

“Um… how about you, though? Is there anything you’re not particularly fond of?”

“Hmm… not that I can think of off the top of my head, but if I do, I’ll let you know, alright?”

“Alright.” They were quiet for a few moments.

“Oh—um. If…” Jon sighed. “ I suppose, to, ah… shift the topic a little bit…If there ever comes a point where you don’t think I’m… I guess, contributing enough, or you don’t feel like I’m as invested in you as you are in me, _please_ tell me. I… honestly I think that’s one of my worst fears when it comes to relationships, is making the other person feel like it’s one-sided.” Jon had started to absentmindedly play with their intertwined fingers with his free hand, keeping his eyes locked on them.

“Oh,” Martin gave a look of genuine surprise. “Yes, okay. Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And… at the same time, I guess, I get worried that both _that_ and, just, everything about me will end up not being… enough. That someone else would be better, or that I’d end up being a second choice… I don’t know. That sort of thing too.”

“Jon…”

“I know, I know, I know. It sounds so melodramatic, but you should know. It does worry me sometimes. Er, at least, I think about it. Sometimes.”

“Alright.” Martin brought his hand up to nervously brush hair out of his face. “I guess, in a similar vein… I worry if I’m not really being helpful that people will sort of… stop caring about me? I probably base a little too much of my self-worth on it… I’m scared if I’m not useful, I’m not worth keeping around. I think a lot of it comes from my mum. Probably close to all of it, actually.” He laughed to himself.

“Martin… I…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Jon, it’s okay. It’s enough for you to know that.”

“Alright.” Jon lifted their intertwined hands to his lips, softly kissing the back of Martin’s hand.

Martin felt himself freeze.

“Oh,” he exhaled. He didn’t know if he was ever going to get used to receiving affection from Jon.

They both paused for a moment.

“Um—I know you just said, like, a minute ago, but… the stuff you’re okay with? Does that include… does that include kissing?”

“It does, yes.” Jon swallowed. “In fact, I think I would very much like to kiss you, if you’re alright with that.”

“Oh, yes, I— I would like that.”

Jon doesn’t know if either of them started moving consciously or not, but he notices their faces were considerably closer now than they had been just a moment ago. Jon untangled his hand from Martin’s, and moved both to rest on Martin’s cheeks. They got closer still. Martin’s hand found its way to Jon’s side, pulling him gently closer.

Martin’s forehead made contact with Jon’s, and he realized just how much his heart rate had increased, and by extension, he was breathing much heavier than usual — but he noticed Jon was too. He saw Jon’s eyes close, and felt Jon gently nudge his nose next to his own. 

He pushed through the very small remaining gap and kissed Jon.

He felt Jon eagerly kiss back. 

He shifted slightly to face Jon better, and Jon did the same, allowing Martin to pull him closer still.

A handful of kisses were traded this way, before Martin pulled back slightly, keeping their foreheads pressed together. He grinned.

“I’ve wanted to do that for… a _very_ long time.” he said, his voice coming out in barely more than a whisper.

Jon smiled, taking a few breaths, then leaning back in to kiss Martin once again, deeper this time. Jon let one of his hands leave Martin’s face, instead moving to the scruff of Martin’s neck, feeling his soft hair slip through his fingers.

A few moments later, Martin couldn’t stop himself from giggling against Jon, pulling away a little.

“Short conversation,” he said, smiling. Jon smiled too.

“We’ll come back to it.” He swept his thumb across Martin’s cheek a few times, and then kissed him again.

They stayed glued together on the sofa for a very long time, until finally slowing down, and agreeing it was late enough to go to bed.

They kissed more there, too.

Jon was straddled in Martin's lap again, kissing Martin with every ounce of affection he had. Now that he'd started kissing him, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to stop.

Martin's hands were big and warm on Jon's back, making him feel impossibly secure. Martin's hands started gradually shifting, moving upwards towards his shoulders, Jon sighing against Martin's lips as they did.

"Jon," Martin whispered. "Can I-"

But Jon was already helping pull his shirt over his head, immediately moving back in to kiss Martin once it was gone.

Jon's hands were pressed flat against Martin's chest, and he started moving them further down towards Martin's waist, eventually settling on his sides under his jumper, then starting to pull up, Martin quickly helping to pull the jumper over his own head.

Jon leaned in closer, holding both sides of Martin's face.

"Hi," he whispered, smiling.

"Hi there," Martin smiled too. 

Jon ran one of his hands through Martin's hair. "You look very pretty." 

Martin blushed. "Oh- thank you." He grinned wider. "You look very pretty too."

Jon hummed.

"I didn't know you could be so affectionate." He gently swept his thumbs over where they were placed on Jon's waist. Jon's smile grew as he played with one of Martin's curls.

"Just takes the right person."

Martin softly kissed Jon again.

"Are you tired, love?" he whispered as he pulled away.

Jon nodded slightly.

"Yes, are you?"

"Mm, I think so," He mused. "Let's get some sleep."

"Okay," Jon whispered, kissing Martin's nose.

"You're so cute," Martin said, laughing quietly. "Come on, I need you to move for a second." He patted the side of Jon's leg lightly.

Jon groaned a small complaint, but shifted himself off of Martin. Martin laid down, settling himself in comfortably.

"Alright, come on," he whispered, opening his arms to invite Jon in. Jon settled himself on top of Martin, laying his head on his chest.

"Comfortable?" Martin said.

Jon hummed. "Goodnight," he whispered.

"Goodnight, love."


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a brief warning on this one! what happens in this one is similar to a panic attack, so if that might be a bad idea for you to read, I'd suggest skipping it!  
> also, it is now apocalypse time... I am so sorry

The apocalypse didn’t make an already tough situation any easier.

Jon wanted desperately to block out The Eye and everything that came with it, but instead, it seemed as though the opposite happened. Sometimes he thought the more he tried to block out, the more came pouring in.

It led to some rough days, and rougher nights, though the two were barely distinguishable; and were perhaps neither night or day. That’s what happens in an apocalypse that runs on dream logic, but at least sometimes convincing themselves it was day or night helped them do their best to adjust, to cope, as best they could.

Neither ate. Or really slept. It seemed for whatever reason, they didn’t need to anymore.

But when the “night” came, they tried to sleep. Or maybe just pretending to was comforting enough.

It always seemed like what The Eye wanted Jon to see got worse at “night” too - so much so, in some moments, that Jon would be almost completely unresponsive. All Martin could think to do when it happened was to hold Jon close, stroke his hair or rub circles into his back, and whisper reassurances into his ear, though he didn’t know if he could hear them or not. 

It was one of those nights.

_'Nights.'_

Martin had opened his eyes from his half-sleep, mostly-pretending state when Jon reached up to put a hand on Martin’s arm. They had laid down facing each other, as they often did now, and Jon was just half an arms’ length away from Martin.

“Martin,” he breathed, pain bleeding into his voice. Martin could see in the dim lighting that Jon’s face was scrunched up in the uncomfortable way it normally was when one of the Eye-episodes was about to happen, his eyes squeezed shut. 

Martin immediately started offering what comfort he could, pulling Jon closer to him and pressing a kiss into his hair.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” he whispered.

Jon made a stifled groaning sound, and Martin watched as the symptoms he’d grown to recognize displayed themselves on Jon.

Jon’s eyes were moving behind his eyelids, like he was dreaming. That always started first, then shortly after, his shoulders would start shaking like he was sobbing.

Sure enough, just a moment later, he felt Jon start to tremble. He pulled Jon all the way into his chest, holding the back of his head gently.

The last thing to happen was usually what Martin could only describe as half-whimpers, as he assumed it got to be its worst.

And that’s exactly what happened, as Martin felt Jon’s shaking get worse, and started to hear the whimpering sound muffled against his body. Jon seemingly subconsciously grabbed onto Martin’s shirt, Martin stroked Jon’s hair, whispering quietly in his ear, trying to keep himself calm too.

And then, gradually, each thing would start to fade, and after a few moments of stillness Jon would open his eyes again, and he would look at Martin with the deepest kind of sadness in his eyes. 

He waited patiently, holding Jon and trying not to think too much about what could actually be happening, or what it might mean, and hoping it would end soon.

It eventually did. The sound got quieter, the shaking gradually quieting, until he was completely still again. Martin continued to stroke the hair on the back of his head.

After a moment, Jon started shaking again, only this time Martin recognized that he was _actually_ crying. He could feel Jon’s tears starting to soak into his shirt, but felt too frozen to respond any way other than continuing to card his fingers through Jon’s hair.

“I’m sorry Martin, I’m so sorry, it’s…” Jon muttered into Martin’s chest, grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, Jon, it’s alright, really— hey.” He pushed Jon back slightly, placed a hand on the side of Jon’s face, trying to tilt his head upwards so he’d look at Martin instead of staring at his hands. “Take a deep breath for me, okay?”

“I’m so sorry, Martin, I--I’m s…” What felt like uncontrollable sobs still racked Jon’s body.

“Jon. _Stop._ Look at me.” Jon’s eyes finally met Martin’s. He swept his thumb across Jon’s cheek, wiping away tears. “Hey, just copy me, okay?” 

Jon nodded weakly, his eyes falling back onto his own hands buried in Martin’s shirt, his chest still rising and falling a little too quickly. But Martin talked him through a few deep breaths, still wiping tears off his face. After a little while, and more reassuring words, and a handful of kisses placed under Jon’s eyes and on his nose, he’d started to calm.

“Hey,” Martin whispered softly. He tilted Jon’s face towards his own again, and this time Jon looked up at him.

“Hi,” he tried to say, his voice coming out broken and hoarse, and the faintest trace of a smile crossed his face.

“Better?”

Jon nodded again, sniffling. 

“Thank you, Martin.” He moved one of his own hands to rest on the side of Martin’s face. “I love you.”

Martin smiled a little, turning his head to kiss Jon’s palm. 

“I love you too.”

Jon gave a pained smile.

“I _am_ sorry.” He whispered, letting out a weak laugh. “I must be exhausting.” 

“Jon, no, don’t say that.”

“It’s so awful, Martin… out there… all of it… I can see it all.”

Martin frowned.

“Hey,” he said, “maybe it is-- but we’re not out there right now, are we? You’re safe here. We’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Jon nodded a little bit.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered again, eyes closing. “Will you hold me?”

“Yes, of course,” Martin whispered, pulling Jon into him. Jon tucked his head under Martin’s chin. Martin splayed his hands out over Jon’s shoulder blades, remembering Jon had told him he felt most secure that way.


	6. VI

It took a few rough “nights” before they realized that physical distractions helped keep the Eye from Jon a little better - having something to ground him in the present, in what was actually happening _around_ him - helped. 

“Jon,” Martin whispered. “If it’s alright with you, there’s something I’ve been wanting to do.”

“Please,” Jon whispered in reply. “Anything.”

Martin nodded, and leaned in to kiss Jon. They kissed for a moment, then Martin broke away from Jon’s lips, instead kissing the corner of his mouth, the edge of his jaw, the soft places on his jaw and neck. 

Jon sighed against Martin’s touch, silently wishing he could quiet his mind completely so he could focus every ounce on the feeling of Martin’s lips against his skin. He couldn’t, though, the world wouldn’t let him, but he could try. 

Martin slowly and gently worked his way down Jon’s neck, reaching his collarbones, pushing the neckline of his shirt out of the way to access them better.

Jon couldn’t help but sigh Martin’s name each time Martin found a sensitive place and pressed his lips into it.

Martin’s hand found its way to the hem of Jon’s t-shirt and slid underneath it, making contact with the warm skin beneath it.

“Is it alright if I take this off?” Martin whispered.

Jon nodded, immediately helping Martin slide it over his head, where it was unceremoniously discarded.

As soon as it was gone, Martin started down his chest.

He placed kisses in a line down the center of Jon’s chest, then moving to dot them along the visible ridges of his ribs, one by one, mapping out their shape. After one side, he switched to the other, and was particularly careful to be gentle while passing over the place where one was missing. 

He made another path of soft kisses back up to Jon’s collarbone, stopping once or twice on his neck, then meeting his lips to kiss him again.

“Was that alright?” Martin whispered. 

“ _Yes,_ that— that was more than alright,” Jon sighed. “It is helping. Quite a bit, actually.”

“I can keep going, if you’d like.”

“ _Yes,_ please…”

“Okay,” Martin kissed him again. “Is it okay if, um… is it okay if I take these off as well?” He hooked one of his thumbs into the waistband of Jon’s boxers. “It’s okay if not.”

“Yes, that’s alright,” Jon breathed.

“Okay,” Martin exhaled. “If I start making you uncomfortable, please stop me.”

Martin could see Jon nod in the darkness. He nodded to himself and started to pull on the fabric, guiding it off, Jon lifting his legs slightly to help them off.

Martin shoved the boxers somewhere else, but close by. He then picked Jon’s left side and started what he had been doing before, but now beginning to place kisses on Jon’s hipbone, then moving into the soft place where hip and leg meet.

“Oh, _Martin,_ ” Jon sighed.

He lingered there, moving towards the outer part of his hip, and back inwards toward the joint again. Nearly every gentle kiss now was met with Jon sighing Martin’s name, his voice full of appreciation and fondness.

Martin gradually started creating another line of kisses that led to Jon’s inner thigh.

Jon made a groaning sound, immediately getting Martin to stop and look up at him. Martin noticed he had the now familiar look on his face that he did when the Eye started getting… louder.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, sorry,” He exhaled a shaky breath. “It’s not you. Please keep going.”

“If you’re sure,”

“I am.”

“Alright.”

Martin returned his attention to the place on Jon’s thigh he had been busy with before, and not long after he looked up at Jon again. This time, the scrunched expression had relaxed some.

Martin then moved to Jon’s right side. Jon gave a small gasp at the first touch, but relaxed into Martin again quickly, and soon after that he started to repeat the sighs of his name. Martin started in the same place, moving down to softly press his lips all of the sensitive places on Jon’s hip. He then worked his way down to Jon’s inner thigh again. He peppered kisses there, lingering for a few moments.

He then brought himself back upwards, back up to eye level.

“Are you alright?”

Jon nodded.

“You make a very good distraction from the evil fear god that won’t leave me alone.”

Martin let out a short laugh.

“I suppose that’s good to hear.”

Jon smiled in the darkness. Martin settled down next to him, and Jon found himself back in the comfort of Martin’s arms once again. Even if everything outside of them was terrible, at least he was okay here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh also, for those of you who already bookmarked this and stuff, thank you!! if you're wondering why on earth I'm uploading so many chapters back to back, it's just because I wrote the whole thing before posting any of it bc my brain is weird and so now you get All Of It All At Once !!  
> (I also hope you guys liked this one it's probably the one I was most nervous to post bc I am a coward lmao, once again I think a physical relationship w/o sex is just very Neat)


	7. VII

Martin was sitting with his back against the bed’s headboard, Jon seated comfortably in his lap, facing him with his head resting on Martin’s shoulder, exhaling soft breaths onto Martin’s neck, just like they had on one of their first days in the house. Before all of the apocalypse stuff happened.

They still hadn’t _actually_ slept since it happened, but they could pretend for as long as they wanted.

Hours passed like this, or what at least _seemed_ like hours, though time didn’t seem to work the same way in this new version of reality.

Jon shifted slightly, then opened his eyes slowly. His face was resting so close to Martin’s neck, he realized. He tilted his head to kiss his neck softly. Martin hummed, a slight smile crossing his face. 

Jon did it again, and then again, and again. He sat himself more upright, pushing the knit fabric of Martin’s jumper out of the way to continue onto his collarbone, onto his shoulder. Martin sighed as he did.

Jon slid his hands under Martin’s jumper, spreading over the warm skin of his sides.

“Ooh,” Martin said with a laugh and a fake wince, his smile growing. “Your hands are cold.”

“Sorry,” Jon said, face breaking into a smile.

“No, it’s alright.” Martin smiled, letting his head fall back to rest against the headboard.

Jon returned to covering every inch of skin with kisses, up close to his ear, his jawline, his neck again, back down to his collarbone. His hands worked their way up Martin’s chest, pulling the jumper up with it. His fingertips exploring the feeling of the soft fat on Martin’s stomach, his love handles, pressing in gently to feel the lines of his ribs, fingertips softly brushing over his scars, gradually pushing their way up to rest over the topmost part of his chest so Jon could feel his heartbeat under his palms. With his lips still touching Martin’s neck, Jon whispered adorations, gliding each breath of praises over his skin.

“ _So wonderful,”_

He slowly brought one of his hands away from Martin’s chest, pulling Martin’s hand off of where it had settled on his waist, bringing it up to rest between them. He placed a few last kisses on Martin’s shoulder, one on his jaw, then turning his attention instead to Martin’s hand. 

“ _Beautiful,_ ”

He kissed the back of Martin’s hand, then moving to each one of his knuckles, the side of his thumb, down the side of his hand and onto his wrist.

“ _So strong,_ ”

“Oh, Jon…” Martin sighed, his eyes still closed.

Jon smiled to himself, tracing the path he’d made on Martin’s hand again, then moving further past his wrist onto his forearm, drawing a line of kisses back up again towards his palm, placing a lingering kiss in its center.

He brought Martin’s hand down and held it close to his chest.

“Is this alright?”

“Yes, definitely,” Martin whispered.

“Alright, good.” Jon replied, smiling, sweeping his thumb gently over where he held Martin’s hand close. His other hand plucked Martin’s opposite hand off where it was still resting on his waist. 

Martin sighed again as Jon started on his other hand, spreading kisses all over it, whispering softly into his skin.

When he’d finished, he let go of Martin’s hands, which quickly found their way back to Jon’s waist. Jon pushed himself up on his knees slightly, so he could hover over where Martin’s head was laid back.

“Hi there,” Martin whispered. Jon’s hands settled on the sides of Martin’s face.

“Hi,” Jon smiled, affection pouring out through it. “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

“Please do,” Martin grinned, and Jon leaned forward to kiss him, and then again, and again. Martin’s hands shifted from Jon’s waist to the back of his legs, encouraging Jon to get even closer. Jon hummed, leaning into Martin, encouraging their kiss to grow deeper.

Martin sighed, his breath warm on Jon’s lips. After a long exchange of kisses, Jon broke away slightly to kiss the corner of Martin’s mouth, his jaw, his cheek, his nose, underneath his eyes, between his eyebrows, his forehead, his temple, his hairline. He let one hand leave Martin’s face, instead moving to card through Martin’s curls.

Martin’s hands moved back up to Jon’s back, gently pressing him closer still, as Jon kissed every place he possibly could on Martin’s face. 

“Jon… oh, _Jon_ …” Martin sighed into Jon. Jon hummed softly in response, not breaking the kiss he was placing on Martin’s eyebrow.

“ _Jon…_ ” He sighed again. Jon hummed again, though he knew it wasn’t a question. He liked it-- hearing Martin say his name, and he would rather like to keep hearing it, he thought to himself. 

Gradually, Jon’s kisses slowed, until he placed one last one on Martin’s lips, sighing against him. He sunk back down slowly, and Martin lifted his head to look at him again.

Martin smiled, letting them sit quietly for a moment, before bringing one hand up to brush hair out of Jon’s face.

“What was all that for?”

“What? Can’t a man adore his boyfriend?” Jon smiled, absentmindedly playing with one of Martin’s curls.

“Mm,” Martin mused, unable to hide an affectionate smile. “We’re boyfriends now?”

“Why not be?” Jon’s smile grew increasingly wider as he ran his hand through Martin’s hair.

“Ah, you make a convincing argument,” Martin laughed playfully. “I like it. Boyfriends.”

“Well I’m glad you like it, or my crush on you is going get significantly more embarrassing.”

Martin laughed, his eyes nearly closing from his smile. 

Jon grinned, unable to take his eyes off of how beautiful Martin looked when he laughed. 

After a moment though, Martin noticed the content look on Jon’s face was starting to drop, the look in his eyes more distant.

“Jon? Are you alright?”

Jon’s eyes cast themselves downwards, his expression growing significantly more pained. 

“Hey,” Martin said softly. “Hey, it’s okay- Jon?” He tried tilting Jon’s face back up towards him again.

There was a brief flash of recognition in Jon’s eyes as he looked at Martin again.

“Sorry,” He breathed, shaking his head slightly. “It’s getting louder again.”

“It’s okay, love, come here.” He gently pulled Jon forward, letting his head fall against his shoulder once again. “I’ve got you.”

“Okay,” Jon muttered in a shaky voice. “Okay.”

“Yes,” Martin whispered, gently rubbing Jon’s back. “It’s okay.”

Jon was able to relax into Martin, focusing on the feeling of his hand on his back, using it as a ward against the Eye.


	8. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> once again!! short warning for another panic attack-like thing that happens!

It wasn’t just Jon whose fear entity refused to leave alone.

Jon had almost convinced himself he was truly asleep, when he felt a very sudden change in temperature.

He opened his eyes halfway, hoping to reach out for Martin for warmth. But his eyes opened wider when he saw Martin, who was curled nearly into a ball in a way that didn’t look comfortable. His arms were folded tightly against his chest.

He looked to be shivering, and Jon could’ve sworn there was nearly… a _fog_ surrounding them, somehow. He reached out towards Martin’s hands, and found that they were freezing cold.

Jon sat up abruptly, pushing himself up to hover over Martin.

“Martin,” he whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him gently. Martin didn’t respond. He pushed Martin so that he was laying on his back, then wrapped one of his hands around where Martin’s were folded against his chest, using the other to brush curls off of Martin’s forehead.

“Martin,” he said, louder this time. He noticed Martin was muttering to himself.

“Martin—what’s wrong? I can’t hear you,” He held his ear down towards Martin’s lips, trying to make out what he was saying.

He couldn’t be completely sure, but he thought he heard pieces of sentences like “ _not enough,_ ” “ _don’t leave,_ ” “ _alone,_ ” “ _it’s cold,_ ” and he couldn’t stop tears from starting to well in his eyes at the idea that Martin thought he was alone again.

“ _Martin,_ ” he said, a little louder, though his voice broke. “Martin, I’m here. I’m here.” He kept brushing Martin’s hair back, running his fingers through it in hopes the contact would do _something._ A couple of tears escaped his eyes, trailing hot down his face, and becoming cold all too quickly.

“ _Martin, please,_ ” he whispered, pressing his forehead to Martin’s. _“I’m here. I love you. I love you, Martin.”_

He moved his hand away from Martin’s hairline, down to his cheek. He lifted his head to scan Martin’s face again, though it looked like little had changed – in fact, the breath in his soft mutterings made it look like the air around them was freezing, little white puffs appearing in each exhalation.

 _“Martin,_ ” Jon said again, unable to hide the growing desperation in his voice. He kissed Martin’s forehead. “I’ve got you, Martin. And you’ve got me. I’m here. I love you.” He kissed the end of Martin’s nose. “It’s all okay now. I’m here.” He pulled Martin’s clasped hands out from where Martin held them, kissing the back of one of them like he had done not too long ago. “I’ve got you.” He whispered into Martin’s knuckles, tears starting to flow more freely down his cheeks.

He tried to push away the thought that this was his fault - after all, he had been the one that started the apocalypse. The thought that he had done this, and it was hurting Martin now, not just him, didn't help him in his effort to stop crying.

He held Martin's hands, trying to ignore the nearly painful cold, whispering an endless stream of " _I'm here"_ and _"I love you,"_ mentally cursing his own hands for not being warmer.

Jon looked up at Martin when he heard a shaky inhale. Martin’s skin started to feel warmer almost instantly.

Martin’s eyes had barely opened, and for a moment, they looked completely white. Martin squeezed his eyes shut, blinked a few times, and when he looked at Jon again, they were their beautiful blue again.

“Oh, Martin,” Jon breathed in relief, though the tears kept coming.

“Jon?” Martin’s voice was quiet.

“I’m here, Martin,” he reached a hand out to place it on Martin’s cheek again.

“Jon,” Martin whispered, his eyelids drooping tiredly, though his lips hinted at a smile. “What happened?”

“I-I don’t know, I think it was the Lonely,”

“Oh.” His eyes were still closed, but his brow furrowed in thought. “Hm.”

“I didn’t know… that that…”

Martin smiled softly, bringing one of his hands to rest on top of Jon’s on his face. “I guess it’s both of us, then, hm?”

“I suppose,” Jon whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Martin sighed. Jon shook his head at that.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m… not sure yet.” He swallowed.

“That’s okay. Can I do anything?” He scanned Martin’s face closely, gently sweeping his thumb across Martin’s cheek.

“Hmm… this.” Martin’s eyes opened slowly, and he gently guided Jon to lie down next to him again, then wrapped his arms around Jon’s waist and buried his face in Jon’s chest.

“I can do that,” Jon whispered, letting one hand rest on the back of Martin’s neck, the other continuing to card through Martin’s hair.

He kissed the top of Martin’s head, softly whispering into his hair over and over, _I love you, I’m here, it’s okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last of what I have written for now! I have a couple more ideas that I just haven't written yet, so one day those'll get posted too. I hope yall liked this okay!! sorry to end on such a sad note damn


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